April 15, 2007
2 Easter, John 20:19-31
Our collect asks God that we "may show forth in our lives what they profess by our faith." That, my friends, is a daunting prayer. Can we do that? Is it even a remote possibility that we could do that? When I read that line from the collect, all I can think about are all the manifold ways that I am not living up to my faith. I’m not patient enough with my kids, not attentive enough to my husband, not caring enough with my friends, not present enough with those who are suffering, not giving enough time or thought to my prayer life, wasting resources like water and energy, giving too little care to the poor and hungry on Route 1 and around the world. And that’s just off the top of my head. Here it is, only a week after Easter and already I’m feeling guilty and helpless. Lent is over – I’m supposed to be rejoicing in God’s saving act of Jesus’ resurrection. But this collect stops me in my tracks.
Remember that old hymn, “They’ll know that we are Christians by our love…”? That’s such a great concept, isn’t it? That as Christians, because we know we are loved and forgiven by God, because we know Jesus and follow him, it will mean that we live differently. That people will actually be able to look at us and see that we live differently. With more integrity, more joy, more care and concern for others, less anxiety about worldly things. But is that really the case? I’ve heard John quote Gandhi as saying that “he might have become a Christian if he didn’t know so many of them.”
Jesus’ commandments are beautiful, and fairly easy to say and agree with, but they’re awfully hard to carry out. Love the Lord your God with all your heart, mind and soul. Love your neighbor as yourself. Judge not, that you not be judged. Do not be anxious about tomorrow. Do not lay up for yourselves treasures on earth. Give to him who begs from you. Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you.
And then there are our baptismal covenants, like our promise to strive for justice and peace among all people and respect the dignity of every human being. We affirm these promises, like we just did at the Easter Vigil, and for a few moments, or maybe even a few days, if we’re lucky, we might actually try to live them out before we forget about them and go back to life as normal.
Can you imagine how the world might look if we were actually following these commandments Jesus gives, if we were actually fulfilling these promises we make to God and to each other? In the paper yesterday there was a story about a man who has been on a hunger strike since March 1 to protest the genocide in Sudan. For six weeks he’s been eating virtually nothing and camped out in front of the Sudanese embassy. He changed his name to “Start Loving” and put a tattoo of a cross on his forehead. It doesn’t strike me as the most rational or effective way to fight for the cause, but you’ve got to admit that this guy is trying to live out his faith. What would it look like if the rest of us were taking our faith that seriously? We wouldn’t have 40% of our world population living in abject poverty. We wouldn’t have 2 million people in prison in this country. We wouldn’t be on the brink of a global environmental crisis. We wouldn’t be at war. We wouldn’t have people in our communities feeling alone. And, I think very tellingly, if we Christians were really living up to the words we profess, we wouldn’t have people saying they don’t want to be part of organized religion because we seem to be a bunch of hypocrites.
Today we hear in our Gospel story that it wasn’t any easier to live out your faith back in Jesus’ time. Thomas had just as much trouble with it as we do. As one of Jesus’ original 12 disciples, Thomas was with Jesus through thick and thin; he left his home and family to travel with Jesus, learning from him, watching him heal and teach and love. Earlier in John’s gospel we see Thomas’ great loyalty and devotion to Jesus. When Jesus’ friend Lazarus dies and Jesus tells the disciples that he plans to go to Lazarus’ home, Thomas realizes how dangerous this trip might be. The authorities are already after Jesus; people are already plotting his death. Thomas knows this trip might be the straw that breaks the camel’s back. But Thomas wants to go with Jesus anyway. The poor guy gets a bad rap for being “doubting Thomas” because of today’s story, but he really had been a courageous disciple. Instead of discouraging Jesus from making the trip, Thomas persuades his fellow disciples to go. “Let us also go,” says Thomas, “that we may die with him.”
And yet, even though Thomas professes these incredible words of devotion, even though he hangs with Jesus through much of his difficult ministry, like most of the rest of Jesus’ disciples, when Jesus gets arrested Thomas is nowhere to be found. He runs off in fear and confusion. And of course, as Christendom will never let him forget, when his friends and fellow disciples tell Thomas that Jesus has appeared to them after the crucifixion, Thomas is adamant: “Unless I see in his hands the print of the nails, and place my finger in the mark of the nails, and place my hand in his side, I will not believe.” Thomas’ professions of loyalty and all of those years walking beside Jesus don’t seem to be worth a whole lot now, do they? Left to his own devices, Thomas doesn’t just doubt, he absolutely refuses to believe.
But, thank God, Thomas’ story doesn’t end there. Eight days later, the Risen Jesus appears again before the disciples and this time Thomas is there. Jesus comes into the locked room where the disciples are gathered and “stands among them.” And then he speaks specifically to Thomas, offering Thomas just the proof he insisted on. Jesus shows Thomas his hands and his side and invites Thomas to touch his wounds. And the presence of Jesus, and the peace and assurance and forgiveness that he offers, is so convincing to Thomas that he doesn’t need to take Jesus up on his offer of physical proof. God turns Thomas’ doubt on its head – uses Thomas to make the highest proclamation of Jesus’ identity by a disciple in the entire Gospel – “My Lord and my God!” says Thomas. And having now encountered the risen Lord, Thomas is empowered to live out in his life this profession of faith. Tradition has it that Thomas went on to spread the Gospel throughout the Middle East and died as a martyr in India. He is celebrated as a saint of the Church and even has December 21 set aside for him as a holy day.
So what can we learn from Thomas’ story? How is it that he is able to “show forth in his life what he professed by his faith?” The answer, I think, is that he couldn’t – not on his own, that is. But he didn’t have to do it alone.
First and most importantly, Thomas had met the risen Jesus, experienced for himself what it means to encounter God. Jesus Christ had appeared in the midst of Thomas and his friends. Easter had taken hold of Thomas, blanketing him with the assurance and courage and faith he needed to go out into the world and live out his faith.
And second, Thomas was able to live out his faith because he was surrounded by a community of people all struggling to do the same thing. Jesus had set it up that way -- He was a big believer in the power of community. When two or three are gathered together in my name, Jesus promised, I will be in the midst of them. Jesus called the twelve disciples not only to support him in his ministry and to continue it when he was gone, but also to support and encourage one another. And so, the men and women that had followed Jesus during his life continued to gather after his death. And we can see in this story today how important that community was. Thomas and the other disciples witnessed to each other, striving to bring out each other’s best selves and to hold each other accountable when they fell short. When Thomas was at his best, he was building up the courage of the others with his bold insistence that they follow Jesus to his death. When Thomas was at his best, he was proclaiming the lordship and divinity of Jesus, helping his friends to recognize the truth about Jesus. And, of course, when Thomas was at his worst, refusing to believe that Jesus had risen from the dead, the others were there to do the same for him. To continue trying to persuade him, to keep inviting him back into their circle as they waited for Jesus to appear in the midst of them again.
As we gather here this morning, Jesus is in the midst of us here at St. Aidan’s, just as surely as he was with the disciples in that locked room all those centuries ago in Jerusalem. And just like Thomas, we also are part of a community of people struggling to live out our faith in a world that often seems pretty unreceptive and unsupportive. This community is part of what our collect for today calls “the fellowship of Christ’s body.” It is the place where we come, just as we are, to find God – together. The place where we come to help one another live out Jesus’ commandments and fulfill our baptismal promises. On any given Sunday we may not be at our best, our most positive, or our most faithful, but hopefully we are able to come here confident that this is a place that will welcome us, nurture us, and prepare us to go out into the world and follow Jesus, to live out the faith we profess as Christians. A place where we can show our true selves and know that others will love us anyway. A place where we can share our hurts and frustrations and find shoulders to cry on and strong backs to help carry our burdens. A place where we support one another’s best efforts and encourage each other to do better when we fall short.
So even though today’s collect is daunting, it’s a lot less overwhelming once we realize that it’s not something for us to accomplish by ourselves. Thankfully, we aren’t left to our own devices. Instead, God appears in our midst at St. Aidan’s, just as he did with Thomas and his friends, and invites us to allow Easter to take hold of us -- together.
Amen.
ER